I’m not running for my life.
But I am totally running for my sanity.

When my father in-law was sick and living with us, we were in a small rent house and building a home better suited to fit all of us.  There was no room to breathe in that rent house.  There was little privacy and an adorable 3 year old boy who was in an eternal state of glee to have his whole family under one roof.  I couldn’t even pee without someone knowing about it, or without the said 3 year old invading my privacy.

So I hid in the master closet to make phone calls to my lifelines.  

Through frustration and tears, my friend Nicole helped me find laughter – we somehow coined the master closet as the phone booth.  And it stuck, I still go into the closet to make calls.  When I am in the phone booth I have THREE doors I can shut to distance myself from the people I have chosen to live with, and those whom I happen to love.  But ya’ll, my phone booth needs a lock.

Photo from: http://www.environmentalgraffiti.com/
Photo from: http://www.environmentalgraffiti.com/

It’s nearing the end of summer and I am thrilled beyond thrilled that my child will have his friends around him at school to share physical “comedy” acts, fart jokes, and discussions about battle equipment – because I’m pretty much over it at the moment.  It has come to things like this:

Mom I’m hungry.
K… eat something.

Mom? Can I watch TV?
Sure, in any room but this one.

Mom, come quick!  You’re never going to believe what just happened on Minecraft!
(under my breath … maybe if I sit still long enough he will forget that he called out to me!)

This is all terrible.  I’m supposed to love him and cherish him and want to play games with him and romp at the park with him and ignore his smelly head and kiss and hug him.  But it’s HOT in Texas, people.  No one is interested in hugging unless we’ve been in air conditioning for at least an hour, if not longer.  The park?  Ghost town.  Even the spiders are hiding.

Tonight I am reminded that when I try to stir multiple pots at once, they all boil over and I find out the eggs never cooked all the way through.  What is the Greek I am speaking?  Multi-tasking is NOT, I repeat, NOT always helpful.  I have a child begging for my attention, blogs half-written, chapters for class half-read, and my husband half-noticed.

This is no bueno.
I am going to spend some time in my phone booth to reassess what is important this week.
And I will pray about conquering them one at a time.

Because my family, my faith, my work, my studies, my writing, my friends — they are all worthwhile and they all deserve my undivided attention.

In case you struggle reading between the lines,
that means stirring one pot at a time.

Take a deep breath, step out of your phone booth, and conquer one pot at a time.


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